


Stop Breathe Count To Three

by hermette, sunsetmog



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: Age Play, Daddy Kink, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Nursing kink (in the breastfeeding sense not doctors and nurses sense), Pacifiers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-13
Updated: 2012-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:45:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermette/pseuds/hermette, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So, it's a comfort thing. It's just a comfort thing. Sometimes Brendon likes to suck on Spencer's nipples, and Spencer likes to hold him there and stroke his hair. Nothing weird about that."</p>
<p>Or: We're not sorry. Not even a little bit. Not even at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop Breathe Count To Three

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://notficfairy.livejournal.com/981.html).
> 
> Co-written not!fic. Unbetaed and lifted straight from emails.
> 
> Warnings/notes: nursing kink (in the breastfeeding sense of the word, not the doctor/nurse sense), ageplay, daddy kink, pacifiers, nipple clamps. Does not contain: diapers or wetting or scat.

I woke up this morning thinking about a fic where Brendon has...not exactly a breastfeeding fetish, but a nipple fetish. Maybe it starts when they're young and Spencer still has a little bit of baby fat, and he's got a tiny bit around his nipples that makes them just a little raised and perfect for sucking on. Sometimes it's sexual and sometimes it's just calming, but either way it's not really something he can explain. He just knows that sucking Spencer's nipples makes him feel better. 

I've been thinking about a time when—okay, so maybe Brendon never comes right out and SAYS that sucking on Spencer's nipples calms him down or whatever, maybe they've only ever done it within the confines of sex and then one day they're on the bus and something bad happens—Bden has a hangover, he gets into a fight with his parents on the phone, he and Ryan get into a fight about something—and Brendon is just sort of sitting and shaking and running his hands through his hair and finally Spencer pulls him into his bunk and is like, dude, CALM DOWN. and Brendon is trying, okay, and lying there with Spencer pressed all up against him, his hands warm on Brendon's back, maybe it helps, but it's not enough. And then Spencer reaches between them and sort of awkwardly lifts up his shirt and tells him, "it's all right...you can, if you need to," and his face is bright red and Brendon knows it probably matches his. 

So Brendon's face is just burning, right, and his heart is about to lurch right out of his chest. Spencer's got his shirt rucked up under his armpits, and his chest and stomach are so pale and soft and his nipples are just... they're just perfect, tiny and pale and pink. Brendon's voice is shaky when he whispers, "Spence." Spencer swallows hard. "It's all right," he says, and he slides a hand up Brendon's back so that he's got it splayed out between his shoulder blades. He tugs him forward, just a little, just enough. "It's all right."

There should also be a scene where Spencer wakes up one night and Brendon is in bed with him (I'm thinking they have a friends with benefits relationship throughout this whole thing) and he's got Spencer's shirt pushed up and he's obviously been sucking Spencer's nipples and Spencer had been awake enough to cup the back of Brendon's neck while he was doing it, because his hand is STILL THERE, what the fuck, holding Brendon against his chest. And he has to ease out of the bed and go jerk off into the sink. 

OH. AND ALSO, after the first time, they never, ever talk about it. Brendon doesn't tell Spencer when he needs it, and Spencer doesn't ever offer, just sometimes, when they're home, or when they have a hotel night, or when Ryan and Jon have gone to smoke up before a show, he'll push Spencer down onto his back and push his shirt up. It's just a thing that sometimes happens, and if they don't put words to it, it's totally fine. 

So anyway, one night something bad happens, it doesn't matter what, but it's something that rattles Brendon to his core, and Spencer knows he's going to need it even before Brendon comes to him. He's already got his shirt off by the time Brendon comes looking for him and Brendon meets his eyes, and he goes bright pink but he just climbs in beside Spencer and latches on to him. At first it's sort of overwhelming, how hard Brendon is going on him, but then it settles into that low-level arousal that it always is. Sometimes this leads to sex and sometimes it doesn't, I think. 

Anyway, Brendon sucks Spencer's nipple, and he's desperate in it, one hand wrapped around Spencer's waist so that he can hold him there. He sucks and sucks and it goes on forever, goes on so long that Spencer's nipple starts to ache with it, the skin around it getting raw from Brendon's mouth. He squeezes the back of Brendon's neck gently and says, "Bren," and Brendon jerks away, all, "Sorry, oh god, I'm sorry," And Spencer is like, "NO. Brendon, stop it. Just..." and he slides the hand that's on Brendon's neck around so that he can cradle Brendon's cheek and lead him to his other nipple. Brendon makes this noise, this horrible, desperate, grateful nose, and latches on. 

AND THEN THERE SHOULD BE NIPPLE AFTERCARE. 

I'm trying to decide if this should really just be a fic all about Spencer's nipples. Maybe he buys some nipple clamps on the sly one day, right? Maybe they all go into a sex shop as a joke (maybe they're going to buy some Magnum XXL condoms for Ryan, idk) and he sees these nipple clamps (All exotic bondage, 50% off!) and he thinks...huh, so when they're back on the bus and he's got his laptop, he googles it and orders some and has them shipped to his house, and he forgets about them by the time he gets home, and then he gets home and picks up all his mail (which his MOM had been getting for him, what the fuck was he thinking, oh my god) and they're there in this non-descript brown box and Spencer can barely wait until he gets home to try them out. He goes into the bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror as he rolls his nipples between his fingers and then fastens them on. And they HURT, Jesus fuck do they hurt, but the bite of them makes him think of the way Brendon uses his teeth sometimes when things are really bad, and that makes Spencer's dick get just a little bit harder. FUCK and then he puts the other one on and connects the chain to them and jerks off while watching himself in the mirror and wishes more than anything that Brendon was there, ready to soothe the sting in his nipples when he eases the clamps off with come-slick hands. 

Does Spencer ever jerk Brendon off slowly whilst he's doing it? 

Yes yes he absolutely does. He puts one arm under Brendon's head and sort of cradles him there, his other hand working between Brendon's thighs so, so slowly, his way made slick by the pre-come that Brendon is leaking everywhere. UGH, also, maybe there's a bit with intercrural sex, where Spencer slicks up his own thighs and then holds Brendon against his chest and Brendon sucks his nipples and puts his dick between Spencer's thighs and rubs himself off like that. UGH AND THEN WHEN HE COMES HE ROLLS SPENCER OVER ONTO HIS BACK AND PUSHES HIS COME INTO SPENCER'S ASS AND FINGERS HIM LIKE THAT WHILE SPENCER JERKS HIMSELF OFF WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH ME. 

Maybe Brendon's going through a stressful time with his family and it becomes this thing that they do, Brendon calls home and then when he's done with the call, he tugs at Spencer's shirt, pushing it up so he can curl up and latch on.

Yessssss also there should be a scene where Brendon realizes exactly how hard Spencer is getting off on it. So, it's not something they talk about, right, and for the longest time Brendon thinks that it's something Spencer is doing FOR him and yeah, Spencer usually gets off after he gets Brendon off, but then one day, while he's lying there curled against Spencer's chest, he looks up and sees this completely blissed-out look on Spencer's face. His eyes are closed and he's got a little smile at the corners of his mouth and when Brendon moves his thigh he brushes up against Spencer's seriously, seriously hard dick. OKAY, and maybe that's the turning point and that's what finally gives Brendon the courage to bring it up with like, words, instead of just crossing his fingers and hoping he doesn't cross some invisible line. And Spencer blushes and stammers and apologizes and Brendon is like NO. NO. GOD. I'm...fuck, I'm glad, okay? I thought it was something you were doing for me. and everything is all tangled up and confusing and Spencer is like, I just...I thought you needed it...I...I like it, but I wanted it to be something FOR you, and Brendon is like...maybe it could be something for both of us? 

THEN ALSO there should be a scene where they're lying on the couch one day watching TV and without even realizing he's done it, Brendon's got his hand up Spencer's shirt and he's rubbing his thumb over Spencer's nipple, just over and over again and he has no idea how long he's been at it, but when he looks up at Spencer's face, Spencer is like...god, Spencer has his head tipped back on the arm of the couch and his eyes are half-shut and his cheeks are so flushed and his mouth is bitten red. Brendon pushes Spencer's shirt up even further and climbs over him and leans down to get Spencer's nipple into his mouth and Spencer makes this broken noise and arches up under Brendon. 

I FEEL LIKE WE'VE COMPLETELY MISSED THE OPPORTUNITY TO TALK ABOUT SPENCER JERKING BRENDON OFF SO, SO, SO SLOWLY THAT IT SEES LIKE IT GOES ON FOREVER, AND THE WHOLE TIME BRENDON IS LATCHED ON SO THAT BY THE TIME BRENDON COMES, SPENCER'S NIPPLES ACTUALLY HURT, LIKE SERIOUSLY, SERIOUSLY HURTS. HE HISSES WHEN BRENDON FINALLY PULLS OFF AND BRENDON CAN'T STOP STARING, BECAUSE SPENCER'S NIPPLES ARE BRIGHT RED AND A LITTLE RAW AND OH, FUCK, HE LET BRENDON DO THAT TO HIM. HE STARES, FASCINATED, AND THEN REACHES DOWN AND SLIDES HIS HAND THROUGH THE MESS ON HIS DICK AND THEN BRINGS HIS FINGERS UP TO SPENCER'S NIPPLES AND RUBS HIS COME INTO THEM. SPENCER'S BREATH HITCHES AND BRENDON DOESN'T KNOW WHAT HE'S DOING, BUT HE CAN'T STOP HIMSELF LEANING BACK IN AND LICKING THEM CLEAN. 

DOES SPENCER JERK HIMSELF OFF, OR IS HE HANDS-OFF, DRIVING HIMSELF CRAZY?

Hands off, driving himself crazy, pinned to the couch and moaning and licking his mouth until Brendon takes Spencer's wrist and pushes it down and tells him, "come on, I wanna see."

And then Spencer can't help himself, he's jerking off all and rubbing his hand over Brendon's nipples, and curling his hand around the back of Brendon's neck as he comes all over Brendon's dick.

ugh, is there any time during the story where they break up? and maybe they're both hooking up with other people and it's like, they're friends, everything is okay, everything is fine, but then one night Brendon just...needs it? 

yyyyy, because what if they were just kind of hooking up because they were in a band and bored and needed orgasms and liked orgasms with each other - obviously there was a lot more to the way they felt about each other, but this was how they presented it to each other and to the outside world. Then they kind of fell into this thing where Brendon needs to suck on Spencer's nipples as more than just a sex thing, as a comfort and security thing, with sex tied into that. Brendon's head would be a total mess, and Spencer wouldn't talk about how he felt about it, and all Brendon could think about was what a weird pervert he was to need this so much. So, inevitably, rather than talk about it, they break up this relationship that was never a relationship anyway (or so they say), and Brendon goes steadily crazy without an outlet. And Spencer goes insane because he can't be a part of this thing that they did anymore, and then one day Brendon has an awful, terrible, no-good fight with his family, and he's hurt his ankle, and they got a ton of abuse at the acoustic session they did at a music store that morning. So later that night, in the hotel, Brendon comes to Spencer and begs him, just this once, please, can they just—he needs it, okay, and he's desperate and please—

And Spencer pulls the door open wider, and he's already shrugging off his shirt as the door closes behind Brendon.

Spencer crosses to the bed, and shoves his duffel off and onto the floor, piling up the pillows in the center. He's already taken his belt off, before Brendon knocked on the door, and he wishes he was in his sleep pants at least, but he's not, so he just dumps his shirt on the floor and sits in the middle of the bed, against the pillows. 

"You okay?" he asks, holding his arms out, but Brendon's already climbing into them and shaking his head. 

"No," he says, and Spencer can tell he's near the edge of what he can cope with, and near tears, so he doesn't push it. "Please, I can't—"

Spencer can't remember how to breathe. "It's okay," he says, one hand in Brendon's hair, guiding him down. "It's okay, baby. I've got you." 

Brendon's breathing is hitched and uneasy, but it doesn't stop him latching on to Spencer's nipple with surprising fierceness. The first pull is a little painful, and Brendon is uncomfortable in Spencer's arms, so he shifts so that the pillows are supporting both of them. Spencer's already feeling a little hazy, but he strokes Brendon's hair and tells him he's safe, and that he's okay, and Spencer's got him. He keeps on stroking, even after Brendon's first, fierce attack has lessened into something a little easier, and for the first time, he wants to talk about this thing that they do, and how much Brendon needs it, and what he's willing to give of himself in return. The answer is, he's pretty sure, _everything_ , but he doesn't say anything, just keeps shushing Brendon and stroking his hair as Brendon suckles him.

He's aware of his own erection, and the hazy shift his brain is making towards totally fucking spaced out, but he doesn't do anything about either. Waiting is better, anyway, and Brendon's breathing is still a little hitched and uneasy, although the furrow between his brows is lessening with every passing minute. 

"I've got you," he says, more for his own sake than Brendon's, although Brendon makes a soft sound of approval without opening his eyes. He strokes Brendon's hair again, and leans in so that he can press a kiss to Brendon's temple. Brendon whimpers a little, and his hand tightens on Spencer's side. 

He's hard, Spencer notices, and it's only when he's stared stupidly at the outline of Brendon's dick through his pants for a minute that he realizes that Brendon is rubbing his dick against Spencer's thigh.

And even still, there's no urgency in it. There's still so much tension in Brendon's body, in the lines of his shoulders and the rigid set of his back, and Spencer wants him to have this for as long as he needs it. He turns a little, shifting so that he's cradling Brendon a little more easily against his body, making sure that he doesn't pull his nipple out of Brendon's mouth as they move. he cards his fingers through Brendon's hair and then rests his palm against Brendon's cheek so that he can feel the shape of his mouth as it works against Spencer's breast. 

It's a while later that he realizes his nipple is starting to chafe, just a little. Brendon's still so tense, and Spencer can see it in every line of his body, so he holds on for as long as he's able to, but Spencer's not sure how far they're going to take this, and chafing isn't always fun. He strokes Brendon's hair for another long minute, thumb pressed to Brendon's cheek. 

"Come on," he says, shifting a little so that Brendon's mouth slips away from Spencer's reddened nipple. Brendon makes a tense mewl of protest, but Spencer keeps on talking. "Other side, that's right. I've got you. I've got you, B." Brendon's looking up at him with wide, too-bright eyes, and Spencer knows that Brendon's more scared about what this means than Spencer is. "Everything's going to be okay, I've got you." He guides Brendon's mouth to his nipple, unable to stop his own low groan as Brendon takes him in his mouth, noisy in his appreciation this time. His eyes fall shut again, and Spencer keeps on stroking Brendon's cheek, more aware than ever that Brendon is rocking his hips up so that his dick rubs against Spencer's thigh. 

There's a long moment where Spencer just watches, and then his hand hovers over Brendon's dick. He rests his palm over it, just for a moment, just saying _I know, it's okay, we can do this if you want to_. 

Brendon doesn't stop suckling at Spencer's nipple, but he starts to shove at his pants, and Spencer's left shushing him, and undoing the button and the fly so that they can messily push Brendon's pants down to mid thigh, and then down to his knees, and then Brendon can kick them off and onto the floor. He's in his t-shirt, his underwear and his socks, and Spencer doesn't make a move to rid him of anything else. He holds Brendon close, until he's relaxed again, one hand splayed across Spencer's chest.

Spencer waits a while before he starts to stroke softly at Brendon's dick through his underwear. Brendon whimpers, but doesn't open his eyes, just shifting a little so that Spencer's got easier access. Spencer makes no move to hurry up, though, or change the mood. He just keeps stroking at Brendon's dick with the back of his finger, over and over again until there's a wet patch on Brendon's underwear from the pre-come. Brendon stays still, whimpering around Spencer's nipple, still staying latched on, and Spencer thinks _what the fuck_ before pushing Brendon's underwear down, just a little, just enough that the tip of Brendon's dick peeps out the top.

"I'm gonna take care of you," Spencer murmurs against Brendon's forehead. He rubs his thumb under the head of Brendon's dick, right over the waistband of Brendon's underwear. The sensation can't be that strong, but the noises Brendon is making around Spencer's nipple get just that much louder, that much stronger. Brendon latch is strong and he pulls hard with his mouth, his hand still tight on Spencer's side, his fingers digging into Spencer's ribs. 

He can feel the tension in Brendon's body, and Spencer knows that that's half to do with all of the feelings Brendon has about what the two of them are doing, and what it means. They really need to talk about this; he hasn't seen Brendon this tense and wound up in a long time. But some of the tension is sliding away the longer Brendon latches on, and the longer Spencer strokes gently at his dick. He keeps talking to him the whole time, even though he's starting to feel hazy and a little out of it himself. His dick is so fucking hard.

He knows that he and Brendon have to talk, because the tension in his shoulders is thrumming, even now, even after all this time. He leans down and presses a kiss to Brendon's temple, still stroking his dick. "How's that feel?" he asks. "Is that good?"  
Brendon mumbles his yes into Spencer's nipple, and Spencer holds him there, unable to help the way he's trembling. He's so turned on. He just keeps on stroking Brendon, telling him he's okay, that Spencer has him.  
Spencer doesn't know how long he and Brendon lie there, curled into one another, but it feels like an age. He knows that something big is happening, something is shifting and settling around them, and Spencer doesn't want to push it and shatter this fragile quiet, but the calmer Brendon gets, the more worked up Spencer gets, and he has to force himself to control his breathing. He counts them off against the beats of his heart—one two three one two three one two thee—and tries not to hyperventilate. 

Without really meaning to, he pushes his hand fully into Brendon's underwear and pulls it down over his dick so that he can take him in his palm.

And Brendon whimpers, _whimpers_ around Spencer's nipple, and Spencer freezes, just for a moment, because they haven't talked about any of this at all, and what if this isn't the right thing to do, _what if_ —but Brendon just presses closer, nuzzling, and Spencer can't help but wrap his fingers around Brendon's dick and jerk him off. He's gentle and slow, because he thinks that's what Brendon wants. 

Brendon's still latching on, still with his eyes shut and his mouth around Spencer's nipple, and Spencer thinks, _okay, yeah. Yes._

It's probably the most gentle he's ever been with Brendon, even when they're like this, so it's surprising when after just a minute, maybe two, Brendon stiffens in his grip and gasps against Spencer's chest. Spencer's dick throbs and he pulls Brendon's dick just that much harder. 

"Oh," Brendon gasps. He tosses his head back and pushes his hips into Spencer's hand comes all over his fist. 

Spencer can feel when Brendon starts coming back to himself again, because he tenses in Spencer's arms, and Spencer starts to count down until Brendon pulls away again. 

"Brendon -" he says, softly, after a count of ten, and he's just about sure Brendon's ready to bolt, dazed or not. Spencer's still hard, and he still feels pretty out of it, and his nipples are both reddened and a little sore. Brendon looks at him, and down at his nipples, and Spencer grabs his wrist. "Please don't go."

"I have to," Brendon says, quickly. "This isn't my room."

"No," Spencer says, shaking his head. "It's my room, and I don't want you to go."

Brendon is red-faced, and his underwear is half way down his thighs, and there's come on his stomach. He looks terrified, all of a sudden. 

Spencer swallows. "Please, please tell me that we get to do that again," is all he can manage, which is all he can think of to make Brendon stay.

And fuck, fuck, he knew he should have said something before it was over. He should have said something when Brendon was soft and pliant in his arms and not now, when he looks like he's going to bolt, run far and fast. Spencer grabs for Brendon's hand and presses it over his chest, right over the sucked-pink skin of his nipples. His heart feels like it's going to beat right out of his chest and into Brendon's hand. 

"Please," he says again. "Brendon, _please_." 

"I'm too ashamed to even look at you," Brendon says, in a shaking voice. "How can you even look at me? When I do that to you."

Spencer can't remember how to breathe. He just knows, all of a sudden, that this is the moment, this is the one he has to figure out and do the right thing in, this one. 

"It feels amazing," he says, finally, slowly. "Making you feel safe, and loved, that feels amazing. You—doing that." He struggles to find the words. Any words. "Latching on," is what he settles for, for want of something, anything different. "It feels amazing. To me."

"No," Brendon says, shaking his head and looking down. "It's weird and it's fucked up and you don't need to humor me."

Spencer points down at his dick, which is still hard. "I'm not humoring you," he says, finally. "And I think we should do it again. A lot."

"What," Brendon says as if he can't understand. "I don't get it. I don't get why you let me do it in the first place, it's like some weird fucked up mom thing or whatever, I don't even know what it is, but it's fucked up and _I'm fucked up_ and sometime you've gotta figure out that I'm a fuck up and that's going to be it."

"You want to go now?" Spencer says. "We can go again now and maybe you'll notice how fucking hard I get the whole time, and how fucking hard Ialways _get_ , and how—" he stumbles over his words. "I've missed you so much, B. I've missed this. I kind of miss that time I woke up and you were mostly asleep and you had your mouth on my nipple. That's right," he goes on, a little louder this time. "I'm going to talk about this, and how hot I find it, and how I want to do it again."

"But I—" Brendon stops talking and buries his head in his hands. "You just let me, Spence, you just...you shouldn't—" 

"Why shouldn't I?" Spencer demands. "Why?" 

"Because it's fucked up!" Brendon says, lifting his head and staring hopelessly at Spencer. "You don't think this is fucked up? Me crawling in to bed and...fuck, what? Fucking nursing on you? Jesus." He squeezes his eyes shut and tears leak out of the corners of his eyes. "I don't know why you let me do that to you. Why you keep letting me do that to you. Fuck." 

Spencer stares helplessly at the pale, vulnerable curve of Brendon's neck, the way the curve of it is exposed. He wishes he had the balls to reach out and touch Brendon there. 

"How does it feel?" is what he finally manages to choke out. "When you do that?"

Brendon shakes his head. "I—messed up." 

"No," Spencer says. He can hardly breathe. "No, I don't believe you." 

"It is. It's so messed up." 

Spencer swallows hard and wipes his palms on his thighs. He's trying so hard not to fuck this up, but the way Brendon looks right now... Spencer has to choke down a laugh at the tingle in his nipples that makes him way to pull Brendon back to him, encourage him to open his jaw and latch on, to soothe them both. 

"Do you want to know how it feels for me?" Spencer asks. He barely recognizes his own voice. "When you give me this?"

"No," Brendon says, quickly. "It's bad enough knowing how I feel without hearing—"

Spencer cuts him off. "I feel like you've picked me out of everyone, everyone in the whole fucking universe to share this with," he says, and Brendon stares at him. "Fuck, I've never felt like that before. Never. I feel like I'm king of the fucking world, and when you start—" he's red-faced, but when he sees Brendon's face, he knows he has to carry on. "When I'm nursing you, I never want it to end. I'm not kidding when I tell you I want to go again."

Brendon's gaze flicks down to Spencer's nipples again, and then back up to Spencer's face. "I -" he says. 

"I'm not kidding," Spencer tells him, again. He's still so hard, but he's almost sure he's managed to keep a hold of Brendon for now, for another moment, another few seconds. "Do you want to go again?"

Brendon looks uncertainly down at Spencer's chest for a moment, red-cheeked and flushed. "I don't want to talk about this," he says, and Spencer knows that, but he also knows that one day they'll have to. 

"We'll talk later," he says. "If you want to go again." He slides his hand over Brendon's. "It's okay if you want to. Or if you don't want to." He fumbles the pillows into a nest, and tugs one out for Brendon to lean on. "B?" he offers, a little hesitantly. "You want?"

Brendon waits a moment, and doesn't meet Spencer's eyes. "Yeah," he says. "Please."

Spencer nods, and helps Brendon get settled on the pillows. "It's okay," he says. "We'll figure this out, just the two of us." 

Brendon nods, awkwardly, and strokes his fingers over Spencer's nipple. Spencer, for once, is glad is of the extra weight he's carrying at the moment, because it gives Brendon more to latch on to. 

"There," Spencer says. "There you go, baby."

Brendon rubs his nose over the raw skin of Spencer's breast, his breath hitching as he opens his mouth and latches on. Spencer has to close his eyes against the sensations that wash over him: the warmth and wetness of Brendon's mouth; the heat of Brendon's body pressed against his chest; the tiny tremors that are making Brendon's back shake. Spencer rubs his palm over Brendon's shoulders, his neck, everywhere he can reach, trying to settle him. His stomach is uneasy with fear, but not uncertainty. Spencer could never be uncertain, not about this. 

"There," he says, when Brendon's mouth settles, when his hand comes up and slides up Spencer's back. "There you are." 

Yes, well, what I think happens is that one day Brendon is worn the fuck out, right? He's been sick, they're trying to write and plan their next tour and IDK some other shit has happened, and Brendon is just done. He's just done. He comes out of the office—he's been on the phone with the label for hours and his head aches—and Spencer is half-asleep on the couch. He's sort of slouched over onto their big, squashy pillows and his hair and flat on one side, the remote clutched loosely in his hand. He opens one eye when Brendon walks in and says, "B?" his voice low and rough and easy, and Brendon just walks over to him, climbs onto the couch beside him and curls into his side. Spencer's hand comes up to his neck automatically and he pets Brendon there as Brendon pushes Spencer's shirt up over his chest and latches on. And Brendon can't, he just can't anything. He pulls Spencer's nipple into his mouth and shuts his eyes and drifts there, letting Spencer's words wash over him as Spencer mutters, "It's all right, baby. I've got you, come on, I've got you."

Brendon curls close, lying half on the couch and half over Spencer's lap, and latches onto Spencer's nipple. He takes in an unsteady breath through his nose and winds his fingers into Spencer's shirt and holds him there. He doesn't know if he's ever going to get used to taking this, if he's ever not going to wait for the inevitable moment when Spencer pushes him away, but he's trying. Fuck, he's trying, and Spencer has one hand in his hair, stroking gently, pulling Brendon closer. Brendon's heart slams around in his chest and he makes himself breathe in, breathe out, breathe in again. 

Spencer makes a soft, sleepy noise and slides his hand down over Brendon's cheek. His thumb presses gently at the corner of Brendon's mouth and he rubs it there, rubs down over Brendon's bottom lip, then back up again, like he's figuring out how it works. Brendon flushes a little but he doesn't stop nursing and Spencer sighs. He's murmuring nonsense but Brendon catches little bits of it, words like "safe" and "hold". He has to squeeze his eyes shut against the feelings welling up inside him. 

"'s all right," Spencer slurs. "I've got you, baby. You can rest, I've got you." 

Brendon curls closer, his hand still clutching Spencer's shirt. He doesn't know why he wants this, or needs this, but he _does,_ and even though he hates himself for it, he's going to take it while Spencer's still crazy enough to offer it. He can already feel his dick hardening as he nurses; he doesn't worry about being embarrassed anymore, because the whole thing's a humiliation he can barely even think about most of the time. Spencer's still soothing him, though, stroking his hair and murmuring to him, and Brendon concentrates on that instead, of how comforting it is, how nice it feels. He stops squeezing his eyes closed, and just relaxes, and nurses.

He wakes up without even realizing he'd gone to sleep. He and Spencer have shifted so that they're more or less lying down together on the couch, and while Brendon isn't latched on anymore, he still has his mouth pressed loosely to Spencer's chest. It's rising and falling steadily beneath him and god, Brendon is in love with this man. It isn't like any great revelation—there aren't any fireworks, no lightning strikes. There's just Spencer, his warmth and the steady, reassuring beat of his heart in his chest, the easy rise and fall of his chest under Brendon's mouth. It feels like something Brendon has always known, just in the back of his head, right out of his reach. 

He just wishes he wasn't screwing everything up by wanting something so fucking weird. He presses his mouth to Spencer's skin, the kind of thing he only does when Spencer's asleep, but he can't have checked, because Spencer's curling his fingers in Brendon's hair, and telling him it's okay. He's telling him it's okay, and drawing Brendon down to nurse again, suckle his way awake, and Brendon wasn't asking for that, he _wasn't_ , but need and want pulse through him, and he—he can't say no.

He opens up and latches on again, fingers shaking. He's still fuzzy with sleep, but his dick is so, so hard for this. He was hard when he fell asleep and he's hard now, and when he shifts in Spencer's lap, Spencer's erection bumps against his shoulder. Brendon doesn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't for Spencer to push up against him. 

"Ahh," Spencer breathes, rocking his hips a little, holding Brendon's head against his chest. "You awake, baby?" 

Brendon whimpers a little, sucking a little harder, and Spencer lets out a breath. Brendon feels too ashamed to talk; he'd fallen asleep nursing and he'd woken up wanting the same. He's so weird, this is so weird. He screws his eyes shut, suddenly upset, and Spencer shushes him, stroking his hair. 

"It's okay," he says softly, still stroking Brendon's hair. "You're so good, this feels so good." There's a pause, and Brendon keeps his eyes tight shut as Spencer runs his thumb down Brendon's cheek, to his mouth. "You want me to jerk you off, baby?"

Brendon doesn't know what to say; he doesn't know what to _do_. He's hard, so hard in his pants, but he suddenly feels like if Spencer tried to touch him, his bones would shake apart. He wishes he didn't want this so much, didn't need it so badly. He wishes Spencer didn't have to see him like this. 

Spencer keeps stroking his cheek, holding him close to his nipple so that Brendon can keep nursing. "Brendon,"he says. "You want me to touch your cock? It's okay, whatever you want is okay."

Brendon can't open his eyes, he _can't_. He keeps them screwed tight shut as he nods, _yes_. He's going to come everywhere. He fell asleep _nursing_. It's simultaneously the best and the worst thing that's ever happened to him. 

"Okay," Spencer says, and then he's touching his palm to Brendon's dick through his pants, and Brendon can't help but let his legs fall open as Spencer fondles him through his clothes.

Brendon mewls around Spencer's nipple, one hand splayed across Spencer's chest as Spencer continues to touch him, all the time talking to him and telling him it's okay. 

"I'm here," Spencer goes on, "I've got you, B. You don't have to worry about anything, I've got you."

Brendon wants to cry. He feels kind of hazy and sleepy; he knows that he's rocking his dick up against Spencer's palm, and that he's still nursing, but everything else has kind of—fallen away. It's just him, and Spencer's nipple, Spencer's hand on his dick. 

"I've got you, baby," Spencer tells him, undoing Brendon's pants. "Such a good boy."

Brendon whimpers his appreciation, still suckling as Spencer pulls his pants down to mid-thigh, and then his underwear. 

"You're so hard," Spencer says, touching the flat of his palm to Brendon's cock. Brendon just keeps rocking up into Spencer's hand; he just wants this, and to keep on nursing. Nothing else matters.

Everything else falls away. Brendon feels like he's floating away, like a balloon cut loose of its string and only Spencer is holding him to Earth. He clings to him and pushes his dick into Spencer's fist. Spencer squeezes him, tells him, "That's it, baby, that's it. I want you to feel good. I want you to feel so good." 

And he does. He feels so good—he feels amazing. 

He wants to tell Spencer how good he's feeling, but he can't; he can't find the words, and he can't stop suckling, anyway. He whimpers, because it feels so good, and hefeels so good, and he feels safe, and—

Spencer plays with his cock, jerking him off, but Brendon can't pay attention to what Spencer's doing, only how it feels, and he wants it to go on forever. 

"That's it," Spencer says, still touching him. "That's my good boy. My good boy."

Brendon whines. He wants so badly to be Spencer's good boy, wants it more than anything. 

"Yes," Spencer says. "Oh, my sweet baby, yes." 

"My good little boy," Spencer goes on, and something about that should make Brendon feel something, he's sure, but there's nothing, just Spencer's hand on his and his mouth on Spencer, and he wants to stay here forever, at Spencer's breast, Spencer's hand on his dick. "Are you ready to come, baby?"

Brendon—he doesn't know. He just keeps on rocking up into Spencer's fist, and he wants and wants and wants, and then, that's it, he's coming. 

Spencer doesn't stop petting him, afterwards, still talking to him and telling him how good he was, but Brendon barely remembers any of it. He feels like he's floating, like he's asleep but still awake, and nothing about how he's feeling makes him want to tether himself back to the ground again. 

He doesn't know how much later it is when Spencer's urging him up and on to his other nipple. Brendon latches on with only a grumble of protest at having to move; he's never felt like this before, never had everything else just float away and leave him with just this single focus. 

"We're going to have to get you a pacifier for when I'm not around," Spencer says, stroking his hair. "My good little boy."

Brendon—he doesn't know, okay, he can't process any of this, but he knows what he wants.

Brendon nurses until he's drowsy, until he knows he's falling asleep. He's still covered in his come, and his pants are still half way down his thighs, but he's pressed close to Spencer's body, to Spencer's erection, and Spencer's still holding him close. He snuggles closer, and lets Spencer rock him to sleep. 

When he wakes up, he doesn't know how much later it is, but he's not nursing anymore. He's sprawled across the pillows and across Spencer, and Spencer's managing, somehow, to jerk himself off. 

"Spence?" Brendon manages, rubbing his eyes.

"Oh god," Spencer gasps, working his hand in short, brutal strokes over his dick. "Oh fuck."

"Wha—" Brendon tries, looking up at Spencer's face. Spencer's eyes are heavy-lidded and dark, and he's staring at Brendon's mouth. He reaches up with a shaky hand and presses two fingers to Brendon's mouth. His lips feel puffy and tender under his touch. 

"Your mouth," Spencer bites out. "I can't—Bren—" 

Brendon brushes a dark, fiery red. His heart is going like a jackhammer, but Spencer is _so hard_ , and he's still touching Brendon's mouth, and Brendon can't help but shift so that he can wrap his hand around Spencer's dick too, taking over when Spencer lets go and just lets him. 

He lasts barely another minute, and then he's coming, all over Brendon's stomach. "Oh, fuck," he says, in a high voice, and he's shaking, and red, and all Brendon can do is look at Spencer's nipples. 

"Oh, fuck," Brendon echoes.

"Your...Spence, fuck." Brendon feels undone, like something outside of himself. his heart is pounding, but he hardly even notices. He feels himself climb into Spencer's lap, sees his hands come up and frame the swollen red skin of Spencer's nipples. "Spencer," he breathes. "Jesus, Spencer, your _tits_."

"Your mouth," Spencer says, breathlessly. He cups Brendon's face in his hands, but Brendon can't stop touching, palms to Spencer's chest, thumb brushing his reddened nipples. "You did that."

"Fuck," Brendon said. He's—he doesn't want to nurse again right this second, because he's an _adult_ , and what he wants is seriously fucking weird and he knows that, but there's a huge part of him that just wants to go back to how it felt a while earlier, with his mouth on Spencer's breast and Spencer's hand on his dick. _My good little boy_ , he remembers, and his hands shake. _Pacifier_ , he thinks, and oh god, what the fuck are they doing.

We should talk about this bit because I think Brendon needs to finally realize that he's not TAKING anything from Spencer, that he's giving him something, and then I think we should talk about Spencer going shopping and carrying around a pacifier in his cart for like, an hour before he chickens out and puts it back on the shelf. 

yyyyyy I think he's amazed at how hard Spencer came, and the look in his eyes. Like, you don't come that hard if it doesn't get you off. Maybe he catches Spencer touching his nipples through his shirt for the rest of the day, in wonder, and that helps too. 

Spencer would put it back but they're both thinking about it a lot, and maybe it's late, and they're in bed, and they're both tired, but Brendon _wants_ , and he takes his heart in his hands and just asks if he can nurse. He's not particularly stressed out or upset, he just, he just wants it and he's never asked for it properly like that before, and they can take a minute to get themselves fixed and the pillows in the right place and the covers over them both, and it'll just be sleepy and nice. Spencer pets him a lot, and maybe part way through, before they get to the point where they're falling asleep, he brings up the pacifier again, and Brendon can pull away, or maybe he just stores it away to talk about some other time, idk.

yes yes to all of this. Also, I think there should be a time where Spencer asks for it. I think Spencer is not accustomed to fucking things up or making huge mistake, but one day he makes a huge mistake. it's something work related, maybe he fucked up signing something that's going to cost them some money, or he forgot to confirm something and it's going to mess something up on tour, idk, but something happens and it's Spencer's fault. He's upset and embarrassed and when his mom calls and he lashes out at her, which just makes everything worse. By the time Brendon gets home, Spencer is wound up so tightly he feels like he's going to punch something or worse, start crying. He's sitting in the middle of the living room and his hands have been curled into fists for so long that his fingers are cramped up. And then Brendon walks in. He's got the last of a summer's tan and his freckles are standing out on his nose and his cheekbones and Spencer just...he needs to do somethingright. 

Yyyyyyyyy that is brilliant. He'd ask for it, and Brendon would be bemused but say yes, and then he'd see how Spencer was practically shaking, and how much better he seemed, after.

And, idk, maybe one time they're out for a run and Brendon has a sports drink and Spencer watches him drinking, head tipped back, and. Um.

Um, Spencer had a fleeting moment of imagining a baby's bottle, or a sippy cup, and feeding Brendon it, and fuck he was screwed up.

Actually, you know what I would love with that is Spencer bringing it up or trying to initiate or whatever, and Brendon thinking that Spencer is telling him that he doesn't want to nurse him anymore, and so he's like oh...okay. And then they try it and Brendon is trying to pretend like he likes it because he doesn't want to lose Spencer, and Spencer hating it, because he misses being skin to skin with Brendon, and then it's all awkward and neither of them know what to say or how to fix it. 

Yyy, because they never talk about anything properly, so it has to get mixed up at some point. No wonder there are crossed wires. Brendon would be desolate at losing what he's craved for so long, and Spencer's figured out that getting to nurse Brendon and hold him close and touch him is one of the best things he could imagine. Spencer had only ever wanted to make everything even better for Brendon, and it turned out there was all this stuff in Spencer's head that was starting to slip out, too. Like how he sometimes wanted to act like Brendon's daddy, and do more than just the nursing. About how having Brendon latch on and getting to jerk him off was the hottest thing he could imagine. He just wanted the extra stuff too, like getting to put him to bed or have a weekend where they don't have any shame about any of this at all, and Spencer gets to nurse him awake and to sleep and there were nape and jerking off and Brendon calling him daddy—

Spencer thought there was a lot more weird stuff in his head than Brendon's.

oh god yes. and then i want them to actually sit down and fumble through a negotiation about it and to confess everything, no matter how mortifying it is, and then afterwards they're both scraped raw and humiliated and turned on and without saying anything, Spencer stands up from the table and takes Brendon's hand and leads him to bed. He undresses him carefully, folds his clothes and puts them away as he does it, and then pulls all the covers back and settles Brendon in bed and then stripes and climbs in after him. There's no need for words between them right now—there's no need for anything between them at all. 

Brendon curves toward Spencer as Spencer pulls the cover up over their shoulders, moves into the cradle of his arms so that Spencer can nurse him, so that he can soothe them both. 

Brendon is a little tired, but he doesn't really want to sleep. He wants to stay right here, sheltered in Spencer's arms, for forever. He feels worn out and a little like he's been turned inside out, but, he realizes as he splays his hand on Spencer's back and suckles him, it's in a good way. He feels like every bit of shame and every bit of hurt over this thing that he needs has been emptied out and washed away, leaving just this peacefulness behind. There's nothing in the whole world except him and Spencer, and the way he feels when they're together. And above him, Spencer is petting Brendon's hair and telling him what a good boy he is, what a wonderful, perfect boy, and how much he loves him—loves him—and about all the ways he's going to take care of him, going to keep him safe, going to keep him right here.

Tell me about Spencer buying a pacifier for Brendon. The sippy cup/bottle thing went badly, and Spencer is really hesitant, but for some reason this is something he wants to try and he doesn't know why.

He just feels like everything went badly because they didn't talk about it, and he's scared that this is going to go badly too, but he still can't stop thinking about it. 

He chickens out of buying one—again—and then goes home and sits down and thinks about it some more, and answers the phone to his mom, who reminds him to bring his laptop home with him next week so she can give him all the scanned family photographs. 

Then he goes out, resolutely marches up to the counter in the drugstore, and buys one. 

And then he hides it in his nightstand, in the bottom drawer next to the dusty boxes of free condoms they occasionally get given as novelty gifts at festivals, and pretends he'd never bought it. 

When he's back in Vegas the next week, he calls Brendon up from the privacy of his childhood bedroom. "Hey," he says. 

"Hey," Brendon says. "I miss you, come back here now."

"Two more days," Spencer says, and then he hesitates. "Don't hate me, but go look in the bottom drawer of my nightstand, and then call me back."

Brendon waits fifteen minutes to call him back, and Spencer thinks he's screwed everything up. 

"It's a pacifier," Brendon says, when Spencer picks up. "You bought me a pacifier."

"I just—" Spencer has no idea what to say. "I don't want to stop what we're doing, but I wanted you to, I don't know, have other options. If you needed to. If you were alone. Like now. Oh fuck, say something."

"I—" Brendon starts. "It's a baby pacifier, Spence."

Spencer's cheeks burn. "For when you can't nurse. Like now."

"Now, now?"

Spencer swallows. "Now—tonight-now," he says. "Or we can just throw it in the trash."

"No," Brendon says quickly. He doesn't say anything for a minute. "You want me to call you when I'm going to bed?"

"Yeah," Spencer says. He's found himself missing their nighttime routine the most; it isn't even that they do it every night, but they _do_ sleep close, even when Brendon doesn't fall asleep nursing, and right now they're going through a thing where it's most nights. Spencer can't quite believe how much he wants to get home and feel Brendon latch on to his nipple. That closeness.

Brendon calls at half past eleven on the dot, and Spencer - who's already made his excuses and hidden out in his bedroom - answers on the second ring. 

"Are you going to bed?" Spencer asks. 

"Yeah," Brendon says. "I'm all ready. I've uh. I've tried the pacifier."

Spencer's heart flips over. "Yeah?" he says. 

"Yeah," Brendon says. "It's good."

Any minute now, Spencer thinks, his heart is going to stop working. "Yeah?" he says again. "that's, um. That's good. 

"yeah," Brendon replies. He sounds a little breathless. "Are you in bed?"

He's sitting on the bed, but he's not under the covers yet. He hadn't wanted to start without Brendon. 

"I'm getting in now," Spencer says. "How about you?" 

"Same," Brendon says. He waits a beat. "I wish you were here. I just—"

Spencer knows. "You can still be my good boy when you're by yourself," he says, finally, because Brendon can decide how far they're taking this, and Spencer will follow now that he's set them off. 

"Yeah," Brendon says, and Spencer can hear him climbing into bed. "I have my pacifier."

"Good," Spencer says. "Now climb into bed and pull the covers up tight."

"Okay," Brendon says, and Spencer makes sure he's settled before climbing into his own bed. The sheets are too cold and there are only two thin, flat pillows, but Spencer fluffs them up as best he can and turns on his side, closes his eyes and wishes Brendon was beside him. "I...Spence."

"What, baby?" Spencer asks. He cradles the phone against his ear. "What's wrong? We don't have to—"

"No," Brendon says quickly. "No, I want to. I just...I was thinking about how I used to...not..." he laughs softly. "and now I dint know how to do it when you're not here."

"Oh, baby," Spencer says. He doesn't know what to suggest. "How about you put the phone down for a minute, put your pacifier in and arrange all the pillows so that you're comfortable. You could get that stupid one from the guest room that looks like a giant tube." He still has no idea why they bought that one from Ikea that one time. 

"I could hug it," Brendon says. He sounds, Spencer realizes, like he needs this as much as Spencer does tonight. An evening of extended families and stupid intrusive questions and stress and what he really wants is to curl up next to Brendon and nurse Brendon for a while. 

"Yeah," Spencer says. "Put the phone down and get yourself fixed up."

Brendon murmurs in reply, and Spencer wonders if he's already got the pacifier in. He's hard just thinking about it. 

It's a couple of minutes later when Brendon picks up the phone again. "I'm ready, but can we switch to Skype?" he asks. 

"I'm such a fucking dumbass for not even thinking about that," Spencer rolls his eyes. "Yeah, okay, I'll be on in a minute."

When answers Spencer's Skype call, he's in his pajamas sitting on the edge of the bed, and he's got his pacifier in his mouth. The laptop's perched on the nightstand. 

Spencer gets hard so fast he's pretty sure he's going to have to give himself some kind of medal. 

Brendon's flushed red and embarrassed. 

"Don't take it out," Spencer says. "I mean, not unless you want to."

Brendon shakes his head, curling in on himself, and Spencer desperately, desperately wants to be there so he can stroke Brendon's hair and guide him to his nipple and let him suck. 

"You're being my good boy, aren't you?" Spencer says, and feels kind of awkward for having this kind of conversation when he's hiding away in his old bedroom. Not awkward enough to stop, though. "My good little boy."

Brendon sucks on his pacifier and doesn't say anything, but his red flush has paled to pink. Spencer takes that as a good sign. He shifts his laptop so that he can sprawl across the bed; he wonders if Brendon can see his erection. 

"Lay down," Spencer says, and Brendon does. He slides over onto the bed full and eases himself back into the nest of pillows he's made. He doesn't climb under the covers, and Spencer doesn't tell him to. "Brendon," he whispers. "Oh, B." 

"Are you hard?" Spencer asks, because he can see that Brendon is, through the cotton of his sleep pants, but Spencer wants to jerk off, and he at least wants to check that Brendon's okay with that. He just can't take his eyes off Brendon and his pacifier. 

Brendon nods, his head bobbing in a quick updownupdown, but he doesn't make any move to touch himself. Spencer breathes in and tries not to get frustrated. This is his...his thing, his whatever, he's the one who bought the pacifier, but it's ultimately something he's trying to do _for_ Brendon, and Brendon isn't giving him any clues. He doesn't want to fuck it is, is in fact terrified to fuck it up, but he just doesn't know. He doesn't know where to start or how far to go or...

Then he looks at Brendon. He really looks at him, at the shape his mouth is making around the pacifier and the soft, familiar shape of his eyes and it slams him in the gut that Brendon is waiting for him. He's waiting on Spencer to lead him, to tell him what to do, and it occurs to Spencer like a 2x4 to the back of the head that this is Brendon trusting him to get them there. A thousand thoughts tangle together inside Spencer's head, thoughts about the other things he wants to do for Brendon—cutting his food and tying his shoes and washing his hair—but he can't spare room for them. Right now, this is all that matters. 

"I want you to touch your dick," he says breathlessly. "Over the top of your pants, I want you to touch yourself like I'd touch you if I was there." 

Brendon moves hesitantly, but not in an unsure kind of a way, more like he's just—taking this slowly, because it's new, and because the pacifier is new and Spencer not being there is new. He rubs his palm over his dick through his pajama pants, just like Spencer does to him, and Spencer can't breathe. He waits, unsure whether he should start touching himself yet, but he's so close to the edge even now. Brendon's _pacifier_ , and his stupid pajamas and the way he's fondling his dick like Spencer does to him. It's—

"Does that feel good, B?" he asks. "Does that feel nice?"

Brendon nods, and Spencer wishes he was there. He wants a repeat of that time that Brendon went so far under it took him hours to come back to himself, and Spencer had laid there with him the whole time, letting Brendon nurse from him when he was awake, and fall asleep with his mouth still latched on. It had been the best kind of edging he'd ever managed by himself, waiting all those hours until he could jerk off. 

"Do you want to take your pants off yet, baby?" Spencer asks. 

Brendon nods, his chest heaving. He squirms a little and pushes his pants down over his ass and his hips. He's not wearing any underwear and his dick pops free, flushed red and a little wet at the tip and so very perfect. Spencer's hand flies to his own dick and he squeezes it hard, watching intently as Brendon pushes his pants halfway down his thighs and leaves them there, just like Spencer would do. He's so good, such a good boy. 

"Yeah," Spencer breathes. "There you go, baby, just like that." 

Brendon makes such a pretty picture, sitting there in his nest of pillows with his pants around his thighs and his dick out, the pacifier in his mouth. He's not just holding it there either, he's suckling it just like he would if it was Spencer's breast. Spencer groans, his nipples tingling. 

"Touch your dick," Spencer says. He pushes his hand into his pajama pants and rubs the heel of his hand into his dick, hard, trying to take the edge off. "I want to watch you. Brendon, please." 

Brendon obeys him, reaching down to wraps his hand around his dick. His shirt is too long—one of Spencer's old t-shirts, Spencer realizes—and it's blocking Spencer's view just a little, but it makes it better somehow, makes it even hotter. Fuck, Spencer wishes he was there, or that Brendon was here, or that they were together anywhere. 

"A little slower," Spencer says, even though he wants to push though, even though he wants to come so badly his eyes are watering. "You can take your time, baby." 

Brendon slows down, and Spencer feels like he's on fire. He doesn't know where to look - at his mouth, at the _pacifier_ , or at his hand on his dick. He can't help it; he circles his own dick in his pajama pants and squeezes, and then lets out a breath as Brendon starts jerking himself off properly, still sucking on the pacifier. Jesus, they were going to have to do this every single other time they were apart from each other overnight. It wasn't the same as being at home and being able to have Brendon in his arms, but it was an alternative Spencer wasn't going to pass up. 

"How's that feel, Brendon? Does that feel good?" Spencer asks, and he knows that he has this _voice_ for when Brendon's like this. It's kind of softer and quieter. He likes how Brendon responds to it, and he does it now, pacifier in his mouth, shifting on the pillows so that he can nod at Spencer, a drowsy smile around the pacifier. "It looks like it feels good. It looks like you're being my good boy."

"Are you going to come for me, B?" Spencer asks, and Brendon nods, still stroking his dick. His hips are rocking up and Spencer wants to be there, to touch and hold Brendon close. To feel him latch on. Fuck. He jerks himself off harder, unwilling to wait like he is at home. He can hear Brendon whimpering around the pacifier, and he wants, he really fucking _wants_. 

When Brendon comes it's with tiny hiccups of breath and whimpers; Spencer follows a minute later, breathless and desperate. 

When he opens his eyes, it's clear Brendon's falling asleep, eyes falling closed. He's still sucking on the pacifier. It's—kind of amazing. 

"Pull the covers up, Brendon," Spencer tells him, and Brendon does, sleepily curling up into a ball around his nest of pillows. It's just the _pacifier_. Spencer's going crazy. "Shut the laptop lid," he says, "Go to sleep. I love you."

Brendon's almost completely asleep, but he smiles anyway, tugging the lid down and ending the call. 

Spencer sits back on his pillows and thinks, _fuck_. 

In the morning, he wakes up to an email with a subject line that says DELETE!!! and a picture of Brendon, still in bed, still with his pacifier, taken with the webcam. 

_come home soon,_ it says. _miss you._

Underneath, it says, _maybe we can try the bottle thing again sometime too. if you want_. 

Spencer just wants to get home. He's tense right up until they leave for the airport and his flight back home. 

Brendon picks him up from the airport, and they make out for way too long in the parking lot, going home via their favorite Mexican restaurant for burritos. It's awesome and fun and Spencer's missed the part where they just hang out and be easy in each other's company. It's nice, to have that, but underneath the thrum of something more. 

When they get home, they stumble inside with Spencer's bags, and Spencer spends some quality time bonding with Bogart, but when he turns around, Brendon has the pacifier in his mouth. 

"Holy fuck," Spencer manages, and then he covers the couple of steps between them and holds his hand out, running the pad of his thumb over Brendon's cheek and the corner of his lips. "My good little boy," he says hoarsely. "My good little boy."

And Brendon nods, and steps into his arms, and Spencer hugs him, way too tight. 

"Have you been using your pacifier a lot when I -" _Daddy_ , Spencer's brain supplies, unhelpfully, "—I haven't been here?"

Brendon curls into Spencer's hug, and nods. 

"Good boy," Spencer says. "Do you want to go upstairs and curl up in bed for a while?"

Brendon nods and lets Spencer lead him upstairs and into the bedroom. The house is quiet around them and everything just feels so comfortable, so easy in a way that Spencer never thought it could be. His skin is buzzing, but not in a way that makes him want to do anything about it. He just wants Brendon. Only Brendon.

He undresses Brendon slowly and carefully, blushing a little when he catches the soft, secret smile peeking out from behind Brendon's pacifier.

"There you go," he says, once he has Brendon stripped down to his underwear. "You wanna hop in the bed for me?"

Brendon nods and goes, and Spencer follows quickly behind, shedding his shirt and his pants, stripping off the smell of recycled airplane air and stale coffee. He piles them in the chair beside the bed and then reaches for Brendon, pulls him into his arms and buries his nose in the thick gloss of Brendon's hair and breathes him in.

"Baby," he murmurs. He presses his mouth to the crown of Brendon's head, barely even a kiss. "My sweet baby."

There is so much stuff that they need to discuss in more detail, Spencer knows. Admitting to everything in their heads wasn't the same as discussing whether they wanted to do that or not, but one thing at a time. Right now he's just content to be here, with Brendon in his lap. He strokes his thumb across Brendon's chin, just brushing the pacifier. "You want to keep this in a while, baby?" he asks, softly. "Or do you want to switch?" He doesn't really know how to say, _latch on_. 

Brendon murmurs something into the pacifier, but he's turning his face to Spencer's chest, and Spencer thinks, _oh_. He can't help the way his heart twists in anticipation; the pacifier is kind of amazing, and there's a part of him that can't forget turning around to see Brendon with it in his mouth in the middle of the hallway, but right now he wants contact, and comfort, and Brendon. He hooks his thumb in the pacifier loop and Brendon mewls as Spencer takes it out of his mouth. 

"It's okay, B," Spencer shushes him. "You can have it back later." But Brendon is already shifting a little, hand to Spencer's chest, and Spencer's drawing him in a little closer so that he can take Spencer's nipple in his mouth and start to suckle.

Spencer lets out a long, shaky breath and holds Brendon close.

Spencer doesn't really understand why he feels as overwhelmed as he does. The room is cool and quiet, and Brendon is soft and easy in his arms, and nothing has changed, not really. It's only been a few days, but the sensation of Brendon nursing from him is incredibly intense, and Spencer gets so hard, so quickly. He gasps into Brendon's hair and pulls him that much closer. 

"Missed you," he murmurs. "Missed you so much, sweet boy." 

***

I'd much rather use that time to talk about the time when they've got a lot going on and maybe they go a long time without Brendon nursing and Spencer starts to worry that's weaned himself. 

 

Maybe that can be what happens next? The pacifier was good, when they were apart, and Brendon really, really liked getting to wear it around Spencer when he was home too, and he'd liked the way it made him feel—like Spencer was looking after him, and that he was Spencer's, and that nursing was a part of that feeling too. But he was also scared by all of those feelings, and the way things were changing, and he just kept thinking— _what if I can make do with just the pacifier_? Then Spencer wouldn't ever discover how weird the inside of Brendon's head was. 

So he tries not to ask for it again, and Spencer keeps trying to set it up, and Brendon stays up late watching TV. They both want it so much, and they can't talk about it and things are weird, and Spencer's half-convinced that Brendon wants to break up with him. 

And then Spencer comes home one day to find Brendon asleep on the couch clutching one of Spencer's t-shirts as a comfort blanket, with his pacifier in. 

yes, okay, so it's been going on for a little while, I think, that Brendon hasn't been nursing. Maybe at first they were rushing around with something and it's not like they HAVE to do it every day, and they were just busy busy busy, plus they were coming off a time where they were doing it pretty much every night, sleeping curled up, Brendon nursing himself to sleep. For a while, Spencer thinks they're just coming down from that, getting back into a place where it was more occasional, but he can't really remember the last time that happened clearly enough to compare. It feels like someone has cut his feet out from underneath him. This has, for years, been a way he took care of Brendon when he couldn't do anything else, but if Brendon doesn't need it anymore, Spencer isn't going to push him. So he starts trying to do other things for Brendon, like ironing his shirts when they have an interview and picking up his favorite ice cream from the store and putting away his things when he leaves them out (maybe the get into a fight when Spencer accidentally misplaces some music Brendon was working on and then afterwards Brendon doesn't ask to nurse and Spencer would rather someone take a knife to his chest) but he never says anything. And Brendon thinks that Spencer is doing all these things because he's trying to make up for the fact that he doesn't want to nurse Brendon anymore, and that's when Spencer comes home, with a bag full of Brendon's favorite treats, and finds B curled up on the couch with Spencer's shirt clutched against his chest. he's got the pacifier in and his fingers are tangled in the fabric of the shirt, and he's pressing it to his cheek. 

Spencer has no idea what to do, but it's clear that the reason they've stopped isn't because Brendon doesn't want this anymore. He's tempted to believe that Brendon just doesn't want _Spencer_ to be involved anymore, but why is he cuddling one of Spencer's shirts? It's the one Spencer wore a couple of days ago, that he couldn't find to put in the washer that morning, and Spencer doesn't know what to do, so he just puts the bag of treats down and sits on the floor by the couch. 

Then he curls his hand into Brendon's and waits for him to wake up.

Brendon naps for a little while. Spencer doesn't know how long he sits there on the floor, holding Brendon's hand, but it's long enough for his ass to go numb. Brendon must have been sleeping poorly, and Spencer feels so stupid for not knowing that. Fuck, no wonder Brendon doesn't want to do this anymore, if Spencer isn't taking any better care of him than this. 

He's so busy thinking that he barely notices when Brendon starts to wake up, until Brendon squeezes his hand sleepily, and then sits bolt upright, eyes wide. 

"Spencer," he says, "I wasn't—I don't do that anymore."

Spencer had a million things he wanted to say, but he was tired and desperate and he just—he _wanted_. "Why not?" he says, kind of brokenly. "Was it something I did? I didn't mean to, I'm sorry. Why don't you want this anymore?"

"Be—because," Brendon says. His voice is sleep thick, and the pacifier has fallen out of his mouth and is sitting in his lap, and he's still clutching Spencer's shirt to his chest. Spencer has no idea what's going on or what he did, but he feels miserable. 

"Because why?"

"Just...just because," Brendon says, like that's any kind of answer. 

"Oh," Spencer says. His chest hurts. 

"Is it me?" he says, after a minute of something approaching desolation. "Didn't I do it right?"

"Oh god," Brendon says. "No, you were perfect."

"Oh," Spencer says. "Was it the pacifier? Is that better for you, than what we were doing?" _Nursing_ , he thinks. 

"The pacifier's fine," Brendon says. "It's fine."

"Oh," he says again. 

"I kind of thought you'd be happy," Brendon says uncertainly, a minute later. 

"No," Spencer says. He shrugs his shoulders, and thinks, _fuck it_. "I really liked what we did. It's okay, if you don't want it anymore, because I want to be with you anyway, but I'm just saying. For the record. I got off on that as much as you did." _Nursing_ , he thinks again. "Nursing," he says outloud. "It gets me off as much as it got you off, that's what I'm saying."

"Oh," Brendon says, softly, and looks down at his lap, at Spencer's t-shirt and his pacifier.

He looks so small and so sad, and Spencer has seen enough of Brendon being broken to last him five lifetimes. He never, ever wants to be the cause of it. 

"It's okay," he says eventually. "I'm not...don't think I'm mad at you, or anything, okay? Please don't think that." 

Brendon shakes his head. 

"I'll just miss it," Spencer says. He has to swallow down the lump in his throat. The ache in the back of his throat is making his head hurt. "I loved nursing you. But I want you to...have whatever you need, okay? So please don't think I'm mad." He squeezes Brendon's hand and pushes himself up to his feet. "I'm gonna go put these groceries away. I might go lie down. I'm pretty beat." 

He puts the groceries away carefully, and then goes upstairs to lie on the bed in his underwear and stare at the ceiling. He can't figure out why he's so _sad_ , why he feels like he's lost something when he still has Brendon, and there's still a _them_. He thinks that maybe he was learning things about himself, too, and it was starting to look like he might get some of the hazy things he had in his head in real life, and now, he wouldn't. He was going crazy. He covers his eyes with his hands. 

"Spence?" Brendon asks uncertainly, from the doorway. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Spencer says, and he tries to smile. "Just tired. How about you?"

Brendon swallows. "If I ask you something, will you answer it truthfully? Not with what you think I want to hear."

"Sure," Spencer says. He nods, and then he says it again. "Yes, I promise."

Brendon nods. "I'm going to tell you my answer before I ask the question, okay. And it's _yes, I want to_. Just in case you were wondering."

"Okay," Spencer says, slowly. 

"If we could start doing this again - the nursing thing, I mean - would you? Would you? With me? Like it was before?"

Spencer has to bite down on his first response, which is _are you a fucking idiot_? His stomach hurts and he feels so sad and so confused, and Brendon is standing in front of him, offering him the one thing that he knows will help, but he doesn't understand why. He wants to ask why he's offering, why he stopped in the first place. He wants to ask if Brendon is humoring him, and the thought, the very idea of it, makes him want to throw up because he doesn't think he could take that, not from Brendon.

He doesn't know what to say. "I would," he settles for, finally. "But only if it was what you wanted too." He shrugged his shoulders awkwardly. "It's like—it's turned into this _thing_ for me, and it turns me on and I'd do it all and more, but only if you want to do it too. We've both got to want it."

Brendon nods slowly. "I want it," he says, after a while. "I think you know how big a thing it is for me."

Spencer thinks his hands are shaking. "I've missed it so much."

"Me too," Brendon agrees.

Spencer knows they have to talk, and that this is just a sign that the two of them are more fucked up than he wants to really think about right now, but—but. He meets Brendon's eyes, and then slowly, too slowly, he pulls his shirt over his head and drops it on the floor by the side of the bed.

Brendon makes a soft, broken noise in the back of his throat. He's staring at Spencer's chest. 

"We should—we should probably talk." 

"I know," Spencer says softly. He can't miss the humor in it being Brendon saying it, not where there was a time, not so long ago, that Brendon would have rather have walked into traffic than talked about it. "But we don't have to do that right now." 

"No?" Brendon says. He takes a halting step toward the bed. 

"No," Spencer replies. He pushes back into the pillows and holds out a hand. 

Brendon's trembling as he crawls into Spencer's lap, and presses his nose to Spencer's throat. Spencer wraps his arms around him and holds on. "We can talk later," he says, shushing Brendon and stroking his hair. It still feels like he can't breathe. "We'll talk about all of this later, B, and we'll make it right." 

Brendon makes a soft, snuffling kind of a noise, and curls closer. He's still shaking, and Spencer wants to look after him and wrap the blankets around him and hold him until he's not shaking and scared any more, and Spencer knows instinctively that he'll be calmer too, that this goes both ways, that this is for both of them. 

"It's all going to be okay, Brendon," he says softly. He's rocking him now, just a little, and Brendon curls in closer. "We're going to be just fine."

Brendon's mouth is pressed to Spencer's skin, and Spencer curls his fingers in the short hair in the nape of Brendon's neck, holding him close. 

"You want to nurse, baby?" Spencer asks. His heart's pounding. 

Brendon nods jerkily. "Want," he says, and Spencer strokes his hair, shushing him.

"I know," Spencer says, and he lets out a long breath, still stroking his hair. "Come on, that's right." He draws Brendon down towards his nipple, and then Brendon whimpers, desperate, and latches on. "Oh, good boy, my good boy." It feels amazing, and desperate, and like there's been something missing these past few weeks. He didn't realize how much he'd needed this, until Brendon's mouth is on his nipple, and he's suckling, and Spencer can barely breathe. 

Brendon murmurs into Spencer's skin, hand splayed across his chest, and he's trying to press closer. There's a sense of urgency about the whole thing and Spencer knows that Brendon's as desperate as he is, that they both needed this, that this is as much a part of the two of them now as everything else. 

"My good little boy," Spencer finds himself saying over and over, hand in Brendon's hair, holding him at his breast. "My good little boy, my baby." It's like—he can't breathe. He's so hard. He finds himself cupping Brendon's dick in his palm, holding his hand there as Brendon whimpers and presses up into his hand. 

Spencer finds himself pushing forward into Brendon, rubbing his dick on the back of his own arm. He slides his hand out of Brendon's hair and down the smooth skin of his back so that he's got his fingers splayed out in the small of Brendon's back, holding their bodies as close together as he can. It's getting warm in their little nest of blankets and pillows, but Spencer hardly notices. He can't spare any thought for anything that isn't Brendon's mouth on his nipple, Brendon's hand on his chest, Brendon's heart pounding out a frantic rhythm. He's usually better than this, more patient than this, but right now he feels beyond desperate. 

"You," he says, because if he can't get the words out right now, when their emotions are this raw, he's never going to be able to. "Brendon, I need—" 

In the back of his throat, Brendon makes a soft noise and curls his fingers into Spencer's ribs, five points of pressure that make Spencer gasp. He can't even think; his head is such a fucking mess and he's about five seconds from losing it all over the mattress. He's never felt anything this intense, this raw, before, like his skin has been flayed off and he's just a jumbled mess of nerve endings and vessels and heart. His blood is screaming through his veins as he moves his hand between Brendon's legs. 

It's not enough. Spencer drags a breath in through his mouth and rolls back a bit so that he can reach the lube in his night stand. 

And Brendon...Brendon panics, letting out a injured noise and grappling for Spencer's chest. 

"Oh god," Spencer gasps, and he doesn't even think. He just slips his thumb into Brendon's mouth for him to nurse on while Spencer fumbles in the drawer for the lube. 

Brendon exhales and curls his hands around Spencer's, keeping him there, and something sparks, hot and intense, in Spencer's chest.

Spencer just freezes; he wasn't even thinking when he pushed his thumb into Brendon's mouth and now he can't think about anything else, and his nipple is wet from Brendon's mouth and the cool air is making it hard and he just...he just _can't._

Brendon sucks on Spencer's thumb, and for once he hasn't screwed his eyes closed, like he normally does when they try something new and he's too ashamed to admit he needs or wants it. Instead, his eyes are soft and wide, and Spencer does the only thing he can think of to do; he leans in and strokes Brendon's hair off his forehead. "My good boy," he says softly, and Brendon whines around his thumb. 

Spencer squeezes some of the lube onto his palm, and slowly, he curls his fingers around Brendon's dick, fondling him.

Brendon's eyes flutter closed and then open again, slowly, like his eyelids are too heavy, and Spencer can't look away. He slides his fingers over Brendon's dick and tangles his feet with Brendon's. He doesn't have enough skin to touch Brendon in all the places he wants to be touching him. Fuck, how did he ever let this go? How did he not fight tooth and claw for this part of Brendon? 

He'll fight tooth and claw for him now, though. At least he knows _now_. He says, "Love you, baby," into Brendon's ear, and Brendon's eyes fall closed, his skin flushed. Spencer doesn't take his hand away from Brendon's dick, even though it's pretty clear that Brendon's kind of out of it. He loves this part of Brendon, lovesit.

He keeps on touching Brendon, even though Brendon's reactions are mostly soft whines from around Spencer's thumb, and Spencer is _dying_. There's so much inside of him, all of this love and desire and desperate, desperate need. It's all he can do to keep it all locked up inside. He wants to look after Brendon, to be able to nurse him to sleep and nurse him awake whenever Brendon wants it, he wants to stroke him to orgasm when he's sleepy and pliant and so far under that Spencer's fairly sure that his whimpers and soft suckling of Spencer's thumb or his nipple or his pacifier are all he can manage. He just _wants_. He's talking before he even realizes he's opening his mouth. "Daddy's here," he says, and all of a sudden things slot into place around him, warm and bright and true. "Daddy's got you."

(I KIND OF WANT TO MAKE BRENDON START CRYING OKAY. 

just, overwhelmed. like, he didn't know he needed that, but in that word there's this utter acceptance that he's never fully recognized before. Like, when Spencer says, I want this as much as you, Brendon thinks, I believe that you think that, but there's no way that Spencer could truly understand how much Brendon needs it. But then, in that one word, it's like...it's everything neither of them have ever been able to put into words, this unquestionable, unbreakable thing.) 

For a heart stopping moment, Spencer thinks he's ruined it all. Brendon goes utterly still and squeezes his eyes shit, his mouth stilling around Spencer's thumb... and then he shakes all over, but no, that's not even the right word. It's more like a tremor than anything else; his whole body is shaking and a tear leaks out of the corner of his eye and streaks down his face. Spencer's stomach clenches and he freezes, his hand still on Brendon's dick. He thinks no, no, not whenever everything was so clear, when it was all so perfect and bright and good. 

"Bren," he whispers. "Brendon." 

Brendon shakes his head and murmurs something into Spencer's hand. Spencer can hardly bring himself to pull his thumb away, but he does. He cups Brendon's cheek, and Brendon looks up at him, his eyes wet and his eyelashes stuck together. 

"Baby," he croaks out. "I'm....I'm your baby." 

Spencer strokes his fingertips down Brendon's face. He wipes the tears away with his thumbs. "Yes," he says, and he feels kind of broken too, like he wants to cry or laugh or something in between; he feels _full_. Complete. "You're mine."

"Don't stop," Brendon says, and then his eyelids flutter closed again. He shakes. "Daddy."

Spencer can't breathe. "Do you want to nurse?" he asks, still stroking Brendon's face. He keeps hearing Brendon saying _Daddy_. It's amazing. "Or my thumb? Or your pacifier?"

Brendon shifts a little on the sheets, and nudges his mouth against Spencer's skin. He mumbles something, but Spencer can't make out what. It doesn't matter, he thinks. Whatever Brendon wants, Spencer will give him.

"Here," Spencer says, and he's shifting up on the pillows, pushing gently on Brendon's shoulder and urging him down. "Here, baby, right here."

Brendon makes a choked off sobbing noise and goes, mouthing along Spencer's skin until he gets to Spencer's breast and can take his nipple in his mouth. He suckles desperately and there's a tug, like a hook on a taut string, right behind Spencer's heart. He wants to cry. He's missed this so fucking much. 

"There," he says, stroking Brendon's hair. "That's my good little boy. That's my baby." 

Brendon mewls around Spencer's nipple, and moves his legs apart. 

Spencer slides his hand down Brendon's stomach and around Brendon's dick. "My good, good boy," he says, as Brendon continues to nurse, his hips rocking up to meet Spencer's hand. Brendon's _his,_ and this part of Brendon is all his, and he wants it all. He'll save the soul-searching and thewhat _the_ hells for later; right now he can only concentrate on one thing, and that's being allowed to be Brendon's daddy, and nothing else. He draws Brendon in even closer, and leans down to kiss Brendon's warm temple. "Daddy's got you."

Brendon whimpers, pressing his hand to Spencer's stomach, and Spencer tries to breathe, he does, but it's like—he'd thought about the worddaddy before, but it didn't compare at all to actually _being_ Brendon's daddy. He's a mess of feelings, of heat. His skin tingles. He strokes Brendon's cock, oh-so-gently, and Brendon wriggles in his lap, still suckling. Brendon's so hard, and Spencer keeps touching him, his balls, the underside of the tip, the slit. Hearing Brendon whimpering as he nurses is still the hottest thing Spencer's ever heard. He wants this forever.

And the thing is, he knows now that he can have it. it's a certain thing in his chest, like knowing up from down and right from left. It feels like everything that's always been just a fraction off has turned and slotted and slid into place. 

"Mine," he murmurs quietly, even though it isn't a secret. "Mine." 

Brendon curls into him, and his eyelids flutter shut as he nurses. 

"I've got you," Spencer says again, and he does, he really does. He's got one hand around Brendon's shoulders and the other on his dick, and it's the safest Spencer's ever felt, and he thinks it's the same for Brendon. At least he hopes so. Brendon has his eyes closed now, nursing softly, whimpering as Spencer continues to touch him, slow and gentle. "Are you going to come for Daddy?"

Brendon doesn't answer, not with words, but he does push forward into Spencer's grip, rubbing his dick against Spencer's slick fingers. Spencer takes it for what it is and tightens his grip a tiny bit, rubbing his thumb over the slit in a slow circle, just the way Brendon likes. 

"Like that," Spencer says. "Just like that. Come for Daddy, baby. It's okay. You're okay." 

Brendon starts to come with a soft cry, his mouth losing its grip on Spencer's nipple. He whimpers, reaching for it again, and Spencer draws him in closer, letting him nurse again as Spencer keeps stroking his dick even as he starts to soften. There are tears too, and Spencer hopes they're happy tears, because Brendon's not pulling away or rolling over. He's still rocking up into Spencer's hand.

There's come all over Brendon's stomach, but Spencer doesn't make any move to wipe him clean. He just rocks Brendon, shushing him as he cries, telling him over that Brendon's his best boy, his good little boy, his baby. 

After a while, when Brendon's asleep, and his mouth has slipped from Spencer's nipple, Spencer reaches for his pacifier and sees if Brendon will take it, even when he's sleeping. He will, it turns out, and he suckles it even though he's fast asleep. Spencer slides out of bed, doing his best not to wake him, and then he pulls the sheet up over Brendon, Brendon's pants down to mid thigh, come everywhere. 

And then he goes into the bathroom and comes all over the sink in about two seconds, and then he kneels down and opens the cupboard under the sink, and pulls out the bag he'd stuffed there weeks ago. Inside is a baby bottle.

[end]

[we don't promise that there won't be more.]


End file.
